Crazy Eyes and the Tale of the Magic Mushrooms
by GeneFlowers
Summary: Isabella has crazy eyes.  Robin takes some magic 'shrooms before he dies.  Alex wants Gene Hunt's boots.  She can't have 'em.  Hilarity and more than a little bit of insanity ensues.
1. Boots!

**Raaaaaaaaather weird, but you love it ;) Written for Immiekins :P Um, yeah, that's about it. Please don't be offended if I use any characters/emotional scenes in a cavalier way-this is meant to be (ahemcoughcough) funny! Please R&R (but don't be horrible!)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood (of course, I would totally 'own' him, if we had a bit of verbal banter, so I do own him in that way, but yeah) so I don't own the show, or Ashes to Ashes, or any of the characters mentioned, except myself (and possibly Immie. she can be my slave.) :P**

**Enjoy!**

**Crazy Eyes and the Twisted, Tantalising and Altogether Terrific Tale of the Magic Mushrooms**

Alex Drake pushed opened the door to the Railway Arms while looking back at Gene. However, she was not looking at his bright blue eyes, scrutinizing her as she entered the pub, nor was she looking at his face at all. In fact, she was looking at his undeniably awesome, awe-inspiring and appropriately aggravating crocodile skin boots. She wanted them. That was why she had begged Gene to let her stay, when she had discovered she was dead. She had hoped that someday, somehow, she would have been able to snatch them, and possibly sell them on EBay if she ever got back to the present and found someone had made a TV series about her life (and death). But she couldn't have them now-Gene had made that completely impossible, as he stood there smugly with his arms folded. Oh, how did it come to this? She pondered to herself. How distressing it had been to only realise at the last minute what she really wanted-not Ray or Chris or Shaz, not Gene, not even Molly-no. She wanted those boots, _Gene's _boots, she wanted to feel them on her feet, she wanted to rub those scales as if the crocodile that had given them was still alive (although hopefully _not _get her hand bitten off). She sighed as she finally stepped into the doorway. If only she had taken the opportunity to nick them after their escapade in the sewers, where she had ended up cleaning them...then returning them to their owner. Huh. As she had fully entered the pub, her mind had (clearly) been wandering. However, now that she stopped and took in her scenery, she realised that she wasn't in a pub at all, but on the outskirts of a forest. Hmm...something about this wasn't quite right...


	2. The Dream

Immie woke with a start from a horrible dream, to find Oddy's nose bumping into her face. Funny that, she thought. Her dream had been about noses. Pondering the psychological and sub-conscious theories that caused us to have dreams, Immie experienced and exceptionally vivid dream flashback. It had been about Sir Guy of Gisborne's nose. It was a rather long specimen, beautiful in its own way, but it had escaped from his face, and he had had to run around after it, trying to get it back before Voldemort forced him to join his hordes of nose-less Death Eaters. They were a little known species, the nose-less Death Eaters-Voldemort had created them when he used Muggle medicine to combine his and Nagini's genes. Crude, but effective, he'd had to admit. But back to the dream.

So, Guy had been chasing his nose for a while, running round in circles round his bedchamber, getting close but never quite catching it (noses can be crafty little buggers when they want to be), when it escaped and ran to the forest. Now, here Guy got caught up for a while as he got involved in a fight with Robin Hood. (Over Marian. Bloody women.) And by the time the two of them had given up, the nose was nowhere to be seen.

Little did Guy know that it had caught the scent of Immie, and was now chasing her. Immie was pretty damn scared, because, although she was clearly awesome and extremely powerful, she had never come across a nemesis nose before. It frightened her, because she knew when it caught up it was going to try its crafty nose tricks in order to capture her, and take her back to the land of the noses to be sniffed at for the rest of eternity (because she smelled so sexy). That was no life. So she kept on running and running until...she tripped over something. That was wrong. Immie never tripped in dreams. It was a principle. Then she was hoisted up in the air by her legs, and she realised, it was the bloody contraption-trap-thingymajig that Robin had set up to stop intruders from finding his camp. _Stupid idea, really. I mean, surely you're _more_ likely to remember a place when you get hoisted up the air, the ground coming away from your feet. I mean, that's not the kind of thing you're going to forget in a hurry. But anyway. _Immie blamed Marian. Stupid, bitchy, idiot Marian. She didn't know why. But she could kill her, right now. Then she remembered that Marian was already dead, and shook that only very slightly random thought from her head.

"What have we got here, then, lads?" Robin shouted in his irritatingly cocksure way, Kate clutching to him in an annoyingly clingy way. What business did he have in being so cheerful, anyway, wasn't he meant to be mourning over Marian? Immie snorted at him in a derisive fashion, and then proceeded to glare at him in as dignified and angry as she could in such an undignified position. He raised his eyebrows, then continued to raise them even further as his nose seemed to climb his face. _WTF? _thought Immie _I don't remember his nose being that long! _Then she realised, it was Guy's nose! She was beginning to feel woozy after hanging upside down in a tree with blood rushing to her head...the nose jumped onto her face...then she had woken up.

"NAHA!" Immie yelled. The dream had just repeated on her, and she didn't like it one little bit.


	3. Ah Vienna

Shaking a similar feeling of déjà vu and dislocation from her head, Alex stood up and looked around her. She was definitely in a forest, that much was true. But ahead of her was a small, medieval looking village. Wondering what she had done wrong in Gene's world to end up here, instead of Heaven, and thinking it might be something to do with coveting Gene's boots, she set off towards it, wondering vaguely if Gene would be there, with his boots.

Guy (along with his nose this time), had just left Locksley Manor and was about to head to the stables for a horse when he heard a voice, a woman's voice, shout the rudest profanity he had ever heard. He swirled around, all black leather and long hair, thinking for a second it might be Marian (not because of the profanity, just 'cause it sort of sounded a bit like her voice), but realising as he saw the stranger approaching him with a look of the sternest disconsternation on her face, that Marian was still dead. "Who are you?" He asked angrily; she had interrupted the quiet brooding time he always had while doing pretty much anything nowadays, but the way the stranger was dressed demanded a response, however abrupt, which was the point, he supposed.

Alex didn't take kindly to being spoken to in that tone of voice, and told him so. Guy scratched his head, confused (and not a little turned on) by this weird woman. "Seriously, who are you?" he asked in a gentler, more persuasive, crooning tone. "And why are you wearing those clothes?"

"Why not? They're pretty 80s, aren't they, and that's where I've come from, so..." Alex tailed off. "I guess that's not where I am now?"

"Urm..." procrastinated Guy, not completely sure what she was talking about, but wanting to appear knowledgeable. "I suppose not. You're in Locksley."

"That means nothing to me," grinned Alex, suppressing the urge to add an 'ah Vienna' onto the end of her sentence. She had just noticed that Guy was dressed in leather...this set Alex to drooling. Leather was nearly as good as crocodile skin...hell, it was better! If she could get into this guy's good graces (and possibly his good bedroom), maybe she could get her hands on...his leather trousers. The thought made her feel all hot inside.

"Well," said Guy, "I suppose you'd better come with me," he drawled in a very deep, manly way. _Oh great, _thought Alex, _just_ _what I need, another manly protective prehistoric dinosaur man. I had enough of that with bloody Gene._ But she voiced none of this, simply followed him and got on his horse behind him. After all, if she could get hold of that leather jacket, she would put up with anything.


	4. Living on a Prayer

Hannah rushed upstairs as she heard Immie calling her name. She grinned at Immie, and, seeing that she was alright, commenced singing to her iPod, which was in her ears. Immie soon joined in.

"_We've gotta hold on, to what we've got_

_It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not_

_We've got each other, and that's a lot for love..._

_WO-OAH! Half way there!_

_WO-OAH! Living on a prayer!_

_Take my hand, we'll make it I swear_

_WO-OAH! Living on a prayer!"_

"High five for awesomeness!" said Hannah, raising her hand in the air and meeting Immie's in mid-air, as they built up for the final chorus.

"_How _have we not made an album yet?" Immie asked disbelievingly. "We are _too _good."

"It's because I can't sing," surmised Hannah. "And because people don't recognise true awesomeness these days-how do you think Justin Bieber got a record deal?"

"Hmm..." said Immie. "They are clearly intimidated by our awesomeness. Especially when I'm in my tiger costume."

"Cue _Eye of the Tiger!" _yelled Hannah triumphantly.

"_And it's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight_

_Rising up to the challenge of our rivals..."_

The song petered out as the pair realised that neither knew the rest of the words, and, more disturbingly, that they had suddenly moved, and were now surrounded by trees.

"Well, this is weird," said Hannah, just for something to break the sudden shocked silence.

"Naha!" Immie grabbed Hannah's arm in fear, "We're in my dream! Any minute now, we're going to be attacked by noses!"

"Don't be silly, Immie, of course we're not in your dream, and we are not going to be attacked by noses. We are clearly in a fictitious construct, which may possibly be real and we have come here because we are dead and/or we have just be shot/run over."

"Been watching too much Ashes to Ashes, Naha" Immie stated drily.

"I suppose, but my point still stands-about the noses that is. We may, however, be attacked by them. Hide!" Hannah whispered urgently, as Immie followed her finger to see Sir Guy of Gisborne (with his nose, still, luckily) with a woman, riding a horse. _Hmm...this is slightly surreal..._mused Immie, as they ducked behind a tree.


End file.
